Scorn
by KerryAnne
Summary: Scorn's set in an alternate universe in Cape Town, South Africa. Don and Raph are twins born to Hamato Claudia and Hamato Luke. Don's older by four minutes and he and Raph aren't identical. Leo and Michelangelo are brothers. Leo's older by three years. Raph's a lawyer at nearly 22, he skipped two grades at school. So did Don. Mutants have same rights as humans.
1. Chapter 1

TRIGGER: PARTS WILL BE M RATED AND I will mention them.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the rights to TMNT. This is purely for fun and I do not make any money from my stories. I do own the rights to the other characters, intellectual and otherwise.

Leo is 23  
Raph and Don are 4 months shy of 22  
Mikey's nearly 20

The boys were all born in the States, but moved to South Africa when they were ten, so they use American English.  
The boys and their families are all turtles and so is Candice. The boys use American English. The other characters are human and use South African English aka British English.

Monday, January 18, 7:58 a.m.

Hawk parked outside a house, checked that no one was around, donned his latex gloves, got out, picked the lock of the front door and went inside. The nickname stemmed from the tattoo of a hawk emblazoned on his chest, but he was also a violent predator of people. He glowered at the messy place. Papers littered the floor, coffee cups jostled for space with take-out boxes on the coffee table, and it smelled sour. The owners were definitely bad at cleaning and one in particular was extremely lazy. He hardly ever did the chores and let his partner do them. Hawk couldn't handle the smell, so he went into the kitchen, got a bottle of air freshener, returned to the lounge and sprayed. Then he went into the master bedroom and saw a laptop on the desk, which belonged to his target, Hamato Raphael. He booted it up and got the login screen. He tried several passwords, but was unlucky. Then he tried one of Hamato's favourite bands, The Killers, and typed it without spaces. Bingo. He was in. He planted a file of incriminating child porn and was about to shut down the PC, when he heard footsteps and a man's voice.  
Shit. Fucking Hamato's home.  
Hawk opened the closet and hid inside, hoping he wouldn't be discovered. He watched Hamato through the crack in between the doors. Hamato glanced at his PC. "Odd," he said. "I'm sure I shut it down. Is anyone here?" Hamato looked around the room. "Hello?" He shrugged. "I must have left it on." He shut down his PC, picked up his cell phone and left the house.  
Hawk waited until he was sure Hamato was gone. That was close. He rummaged in Hamato's dresser and found his 9 mm Luger, took a pair of his underpants, placed it in a sealed plastic bag and stuffed it in his tog bag. Then he left, drove home and made an alteration to the gun: a silencer.

Later that day, Hawk was having a drink at the Cape Town Waterfront. Dressed in shorts, a T-shirt and sunglasses, he blended in easily with the tourists. For all anyone knew, he was an American on holiday. He even faked an American accent pretty well and managed to fool people with it most of the time. But fooling people was the last thing on his mind. He was dying to use Hamato Raphael's 9mm Luger in his rucksack. Hawk waited by the harbour for his intended victim to return from her ferry trip to Robben Island. She'd boarded it two hours earlier and was due back in an hour and a half. How he wished he could get rid of Hamato, but that wasn't the plan for now. Hawk's cell phone rang. Speak of the devil. It was Hamato. They were good friends, or at least Hamato thought that was the case. "Hi," Hamato said. "I'm headed ta Le Verona at the Waterfront ta meet my friend, Victoria Jones, for drinks. Do ta want ta join us?"  
"What time is it?  
"Five fifteen."  
"I can't. I have to work late."  
"Oh, okay. Maybe…"  
"Oh shit, the signal's gone. I can't hear you." Hawk switched off his cell and placed it in his bag. The signal was fine, but the last thing he wanted was a conversation with Hamato. He hated "Mister Fucking Perfect Hamato". The bastard had ruined his life and he needed to pay.

Hawk's cell phone buzzed at 6:10 p.m. "Hi?"  
"You asked me to tail Hamato."  
"Yes, and?"  
"He met a redheaded chick at Le Verona at the Waterfront."  
"Did he see you?"  
"No. I was at a table nor far from the bar, and judging by their body language, their conversation was heated. She threw his drink at him and stormed out."  
"Did you hear what they said?"  
"No, but I did hear her say "what an asshole" when she left. Then he drove home."  
"Is he there now?"  
"Yes."  
"Alone?"  
"Another car. Brunette is there with a kid, who looks like him. Does he have a kid?"  
"Call me if he's on the move. If he's not, I'll have to postpone my job until he does."  
"You got it."  
As Hawk disconnected the call, he checked his watch. The ferry had arrived on time. He spotted his target, Marina Johansson, with her best friend Gina, who was Hamato's sister. They headed to the car park. Hawk was careful to stay a few feet behind them. He watched them get into Johansson's car. Enjoy your final hours, Johansson.

Hawk impatiently called his friend just after ten. "Has he moved yet?"  
"Yes."  
"Where?"  
"Sea Point Promenade."  
"Call you after." Hawk sighed as his phone shrilled. "What? I'm busy now. He what? Then dump him. I'm sick to death of listening to your relationship crap. How you got together is beyond me." Hawk disconnected the call. Little brothers. Pain in the fucking ass.

Hawk drove to Johansson's home, donned latex gloves, a balaclava, grabbed his tog bag and picked the lock. Toys were scattered everywhere and he almost tripped over a toy car. Fuck. He went to the children's room and saw they were fast asleep. Then he went to the master bedroom, opened the door and saw Johansson and her husband, Sven, soundly asleep. Showtime. Hawk squeezed the trigger and a wide grin split his face, as he emptied the bullets into the couple. They didn't even wake and their once pristine white bedspread was now stained scarlet with their blood. Hawk laughed, delighted with his handiwork. Operation Revenge was in progress; sweet fucking revenge. He opened his tog bag, took out Hamato's underpants and put it into Marina's dresser. Now he'll never explain himself out of the mess. Then he dropped the Luger onto the floor. Job done. I'm starving. He left and headed to the nearest KFC. Then he drove home and sent a text. Mission complete. Man, I'm beat.


	2. Raph's hellish day

TRIGGER:: REFERENCES TO ABUSE, SWEARING,

CANDICE IS HUMAN.

Cape Town, Monday, January 18, 8:40 a.m.

Hamato Raphael, a handsome, twenty-one-year-old, six foot four, golden-eyed and emerald skimmed criminal defence lawyer for Nixon and Mannix, cursed in frustration. It was only eight forty, but he was already swamped with work and the phone hadn't stopped ringing. _And not just my work. Fixing Josh's_ n _damn work_ , he thought, and scowled. _It's Mary's job. Not mine_. Raphael had a secret ambition to pursue acting, but for the moment he was content to practice law. He didn't like representing criminals, but the pay was good, he had to admit, and one day when he'd made enough he could switch to the other side if the acting didn't work out. There was a knock at the door and twenty-seven-year-old darkly handsome Joshua Gianelli entered. "Hi," he said. The atmosphere was tense and thick as oatmeal. "You busy?" Josh asked. Raphael didn't answer. Josh took out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket, lit up and perched himself on Raphael's desk. "I asked you a question."

"Fuck off, Josh, and take that shit with ya. Ya know my grandpa died of cancer and yet ya smoke around me."

"You look tired. Gotten much sleep?"

"Not with the shit ya keep pilin' on my desk. I was up until four last night fixin' yer work. It's yer secretary's job. Not mine."

"Yeah, but you're cuter."

"Fuck off."

"I miss you. What about coming to my place tonight?"

"Never."

"You miss me."

"Like a rash. Leave me the hell alone, Josh."

"Sooner or later, you'll realise that you want me back."

"I'd have ta be fuckin' nuts ta do that, and while I'm no cacti expert, yer one hell of a prick."

Josh stubbed out his cigarette and smiled. "You're just playing hard to get. Are we talking about size here?"

"Don't ya ever tire of bein' an asshole?"

"Eva's going out with friends later. Come on. We'll have lots of fun." Raphael's answer was to dump his tepid cup of coffee over him. "Looks like yer a bit wet," Raphael said. "Get it straight. We are never getting' back together. I'm fuckin' tired of ya botherin' me. Do ya get the message now? Get the fuck outta my office."

Josh took out a handkerchief, dried his pants and got up. "You'll come around, Raph. You always do. I'll be waiting for your call. See you later."

 _Fuckin' jerk_ , Raphael thought. _I don't need his shit. I have enough on my plate with work, the parole hearing, Rich's insecurities. Can't understand why he's insecure, because we're gettin' married soon. Surely that proves he doesn't have ta worry? He's drivin' me insane. Do I go through with it? And then there's…_. His thoughts were interrupted by his ringing cell. "Yeah?"

"Mr. Hamato? It's Grayson Parker. You well?"

"Bad day. Yers?

"Could be better. It wasn't an easy decision, but the Parole Board decided…"

"The asshole's been released?" Raphael clenched his hands and felt his stomach tighten in knots. "We felt that Mr. Fletcher's been rehabilitated and he's being released."

"Despite my and Don's testimony? What kind of sick world is this? He did less than fifteen years for ass-fuckin' my brothers and me, killing Sean and almost succeedin' in killin' me. He's been released why? Because he's been rehabilitated and is a good citizen now. The law's a fuckin' joke."

"I understand…"

"You understand nothin'. Less than fifteen years. Is that all we're worth? All the pain my family and I've endured. I still suffer from nightmares. So does Don and we miss Sean every single day. He never had the chance ta grow up, but Fletcher says he's changed and none of that matters ta the law. " Raphael spat out the last word.

"I understand you're upset, Mr. Hamato."

"Upset? No, I'm damn furious. Thanks a lot for fuckin' nothing." Raphael disconnected the call and scowled. _Fuckin' wankers releasing that bastard_. There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Raphael said. "Oh, hi, Uncle Kieran," he said when golden eyed and emerald skinned Kieran Brady entered. "How are you, champ?" Kieran asked, hugging him. "Any word from the Parole Board? I know you're expecting an answer today and thought I'd swing by for moral support."

"Yeah," Raphael said, disengaging himself. "The Parole Board just notified me that Fletcher's been released."

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"Me, too. Ya've seen Fletcher's handiwork on the inside of my left arm. Took thirty stitches ta sew it together and is a constant reminder of what happened. Thank God Don had a cold and was kept home that day. The criminals have more rights than the victims. How's that justice?" Raphael seethed. "Where's the justice for me and my brothers?"

"Raph, I'm sorry and am here for you, buddy." Kieran wrapped his arms around Raphael, who buried himself onto his shoulder and emitted a sob. "How can they release that slimebag, Uncle Kieran? How?"

"It's okay, buddy…"

"No, it's not. He's out. It'll never be okay. What if that monster goes after other kids?" Raphael pulled apart gently. "Ya know he will. Sickos like him don't change. How can the Parole Board be so damn stupid? Why don't we victims matter? Sean wouldn't have wanted this. He'd have wanted that bastard ta rot in prison forever. Me, I wish they'd reinstate the death penalty. I'd gladly watch that creep die. I'd even stick the needle in his arm. He took away EVERYTHING I loved. The one person who loved me."

"Not true. Don loves you. You're his twin, best friend and I love you very much. You know that, kiddo."

Raphael laughed bitterly. "Don loves himself."

Kieran sighed. "I wish you guys would make amends. It breaks my heart that you're not speaking."

"Get used ta it, Uncle Kieran."

"How can you be so uncaring, Raph? He's family. Yes, he borrowed the car without asking and totalled it, but he's still your brother. To stop speaking because of that is silly. He told me he'll buy you a new one." "With what money? He's broke. I have ta use Rich's old Volkswagen, which is older than me. It won't last forever and I'm not exactly flush either after forkin' out a lot for the wedding."

"I'll buy you a new car."

"Ya serious? I can't let ya do that. Ya've done so much for us, what with buyin' the house and…"

"I want to. We can go get one whenever you want. But will you talk to Don?"

"All right. I'll call him when I get a moment. But I probably can't see him until Thursday. I'm swamped this week."

"Great. Why don't we go out tonight? I think we can all use a drink."

"Love ta, but it's Rich and my anniversary."

"Of course it is. Sorry I forgot. Congratulations, buddy, and know I'm always here for you." The men embraced. "I'll call you later. Love you, buddy."

"Love ya, too."

Raphael felt a wave of nausea surge in his stomach. Leaning over the wastebasket, he threw up. _I can't believe that fucker's out_. Raphael opened his drawer, took out a framed photo of himself with Don and Sean, who was thirteen months older. It was taken on Raphael and Don's seventh birthday, on the twenty-fourth of May, nineteen-ninety-five, two days before the attack. The brothers were sitting on the couch in the lounge, with Raphael in the middle, and had their arms around one another. Raphael studied the photo intently. "I'm sorry, Sean," he said, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I did my ultimate to keep that creep in the pen. I'm sorry I failed you." He reached into the same drawer, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a long sip. _I need this. It's been one hell of a shitty day._ Raphael remembered the abuse. Ben Fletcher's hot, boozy, cigarette breath as he climbed into his and Don's bed and fondled them, promising them sweets if they were good. How Fletcher encouraged them to touch one another and him. The times Fletcher raped him and his brothers, the agonising pain coursing through him every time it happened, being too afraid to say anything and told that no one would believe him if he did. Raphael remembered the day life changed irrevocably, when Sean was stabbed and died, when he was told that Sean was dead. Sean's funeral. He shivered, felt a fresh wave of nausea at the memories and threw up again. We were innocent little kids whose lives were destroyed. Fletcher was convicted, but not the sentence he should have gotten. Life without parole wouldn't even have been enough. He should have gotten death like he gave Sean. I wish we'd had the death penalty then and wish we had it now. There was a knock at the door. "Yeah?" Raphael said, quickly putting the photo and the booze away. Josh opened the door and poked his head in. "Meeting in five minutes, Raph."

"Okay."

"Hey, you all right? You look upset."

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. See ya there."

"All right. Hey, if you need to talk, I'm a good listener."

"I said I'm fine," Raphael snapped.

"Suit yourself, but the offer still stands. See you in a few."

Raphael squared his shoulders, composed himself. I have ta be strong. Sean would want me ta be. His cell rang and the caller ID said Don. He ignored it, put the cell in the drawer and went to the meeting.

An hour later, the meeting was over. Raphael had been unable to focus and kept thinking about Fletcher and his release. He wasn't even aware the meeting was finished, until Josh said, "Raph, everyone else left a few minutes ago. Why are you still here?"

"Oh, sorry."

"Is something wrong? You looked distracted."

"No. Everything's fine."

"Well, like I said, if you need to talk…"

"Last person I'd talk ta is ya," Raphael retorted, storming out.

Raphael headed to his office and opened the door. "What the hell?" he said in dismay, seeing an attractive brunette and a six-year-old emerald skinned and golden-eyed boy standing just inside. "Morning," Candice Simmons said.

"What are ya doin' here?" Raphael demanded, shutting the door.

"Daddy!" the little boy said, running over to Raphael and hugging him, but Raphael stood stiffly, arms at his side, and made no effort to return the boy's affection.

"Raphael, you haven't visited Noah in ages, so I thought I'd bring him to you," Candice said.

"I have work. You can't do this ta me. How did ya get past security?"

"Said I was visiting a friend. Anyway, I also have to work. You're his father and you do fuck-all for him."

"I gave money last month and work? Don't make me laugh. We all know what ya do. Can ya leave? I'm havin' a bad day and I don't need this."

Noah looked at his feuding parents, his lip quivered and tears brimmed in his eyes. Then he lost it and started to cry. "Now look at what you did, Raphael," Candice said, putting an arm around the boy. "You made him cry."

"Me? It was ya. Look, take him and get out. I'm busy."

"But I have clients all day. Noah, how would you like to spend a few days with your daddy?"

"Really?" Noah asked hopefully, looking at his father.

"No," Raphael said quickly. "Rich and I have Anniversary plans."

"Then when, Raphael?" Candice demanded. "And when are you going to tell Rich and your family about Noah?"

"Hasn't been a good time."

"You've had years. Are you ashamed of your son?"

"It's complicated. Noah, why don't ya play a game on my PC while yer mom and I chat?"

"Daddy, do you have World of Warcraft?" Noah asked.

"No. How about Mahjong?" Raphael said, booting up the game. "Know how ta play?" Noah shook his head. "Ya have ta match tiles. Like this. Want ta try?"

"Okay." Noah tried it. "Boring. Don't you have action games?"

"No. Best I can offer. And don't touch my stuff."

Raphael and Chloe went to a corner of the room. "Candice, ya had no damn right ta bring him here," Raphael fumed. "How am I goin' ta explain him ta my boss and my colleagues?"

"Tell them the truth. I'm sick to death of you being a dead-beat dad. I know it was rough becoming a dad at fifteen, but you've had years to deal with it. Grow up and accept your responsibilities."

"Ya were thirty-four when ya got pregnant and it was statutory rape. I'm the victim here."

"Victim?" Candice scoffed. "You were hardly innocent. The real victim is Noah, who you don't give a shit about. Sure you pay money, but he needs more than that. Surely you'd understand that given your background."

"What's that supposed ta mean?"

"Your acrimonious relationship with your father. I'd have thought it would spur you on to be a better dad."

"You were just an experiment," Raphael shot back. "I always knew I was gay, but I was strugglin' with that when we happened. I soon accepted who I was and ended it. Yer damn lucky I didn't report ya ta the cops."

"Raphael, I was wrong to mess around with you and I've said that multiple times. I don't care that you're gay. That's your business. All I care about is Noah and how we intend to go forward. And that has zero to do with being a father to our son."

"I'll continue ta pay for him, but that's it. I'm not cut out ta be a dad."

"How do you know? You haven't even given it a chance."

"I know myself and what I'm capable of. I've never wanted kids and would rather cut my wrists than have any."

Noah looked up and stared at Raphael. "Wow. How graphic," Candice said acerbically. "I've had enough of your crap. You're taking the boy now. I'll bring the boy over at six p.m."

"No!" Raphael yelled. "I told ya I have plans, ya fuckin' whore. Ya can't do this ta me."

Candice went over to her son, hugged him and kissed his forehead. "Be good for your daddy, Noah. I'll see you later."

"He doesn't like me, Mommy."

"Nonsense. He loves you and is looking forward to spending time with you. Isn't that right, Raphael?" She looked hard at Raphael, but he said nothing and scowled. "Bye, sweetheart. If you're good, maybe your daddy will order in pizza."

Raphael turned to Noah. "Get off the PC. I need ta work."

"But what am I supposed to do?"

"Why aren't ya at school?"

Noah shrugged. "Mommy said I can stay home."

"Is that so? Well, I need ta work, so get off the PC."

"But I want to play games."

Raphael looked at his mini-me and sighed. "Noah, I have a lot of work ta do on the PC. Why don't ya draw? I have paper and colored pens."

"Daddy, why do you and Mommy hate one another?"

"Because she's a bitch," Raphael muttered under his breath. "Here are yer paper and pens. Ya eaten?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Then no talkin'. I need ya ta be quiet." Raphael sat down at his desk, got to work and was engrossed in a report, when Noah said, "Daddy?"

"What?" Raphael asked sharply.

"It's not nice to call people names. Mommy said so."

"Yer mom needs ta practice what she preaches."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Be quiet." There was a knock at the door. "Yeah?" Raphael said.

The door opened and Josh stepped inside. "Hi, Raph," he said. "Who's the kid?"

"Babysittin' for a colleague. Noah, this is Josh. I work with him."

"Who?" Josh asked. "I've never seen this kid before and I know most of the people in our building."

Noah looked up at Josh and smiled, revealing a gap between his front teeth. "I'm Noah and he's my daddy."

"Daddy?" Josh said in surprise

"Kid's delusional," Raphael said quickly. "I'm friends with his mom. Kid got attached ta me and calls me daddy."

"He looks just like you," Josh said. "How come you never told me, Raph? I thought we told one another everything."

"Josh, can ya leave? I'm extremely busy."

"How old are you, Noah?" Josh asked.

"Six."

"Oh," Josh said, doing the math. "Do you like pizza, buddy?"

Noah nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll order in for lunch. Raph, he's cute. Going to be a real heartbreaker someday."

"What do you want, Josh?" Raphael asked irritably.

"It can wait. I'll come back at one."

"That was bad of you, Noah," Raphael said. "I told ya ta be quiet."

"Why? You're my daddy."

"Not by choice. It wasn't a democratic election."

"What does that mean, Daddy?"

"Be quiet."

"You angry, Daddy?"

"Quiet, Noah. I need ta work."

The rest of Raphael's work day was uneventful. At four-thirty, he left the office and drove Noah to Candice's house. They got out, rang the bell and Candice opened the door. "You're supposed to take him, Raphael. That was the agreement," she said.

"No. That's what ya said. I have plans and after my hellish day, I need ta unwind. Last thing I need is an obnoxious brat."

"Wow. I feel your love for the boy," Candice said sarcastically.

"Look, it's not just anniversary plans. He's been released."

"Oh. I'm sorry. You okay?" Concern shone in Candice's brown eyes. Raphael shook his head. "No. I want some time alone with my loved ones and ta deal with it."

"And your son's not one of your loved ones?" Noah looked up at his father, waiting for his reply.

"It's not like that, Candice."

"It is. I understand you're dismayed that the creep's free, but Noah still needs to spend time with you."

"Today's not a good day. Please be reasonable."

"Fuck you, Raphael. I've had it with being reasonable. You owe it to Noah to spend time with him."

"I'll take the kid tomorrow if I have ta, but not today," Raphael said, folding his arms over his plastron. "Tomorrow doesn't suit me."

"Too bad."

"I have plans, too." Raphael and Candice stared at one another, neither backing down. "Okay," she said reluctantly after a few minutes. "I'll cancel mine, but you're taking him for the whole week."

"Fine," Raphael said through clenched teeth. _No, not fine. I'll find an excuse. No way do I want ta spend time with this kid. I'm not cut out ta be a dad_.

"Great. Noah, go inside, honey. I want a moment with your daddy."

Noah went over to his father and hugged him. Again Raphael stood stiffly. "I love you, Daddy," he said. "See you tomorrow. Bye."

"That was mean, Raphael," Candice said. "Noah's reaching out to you, but you keep shutting him out. He's just a little boy, who wants and needs love from you."

"Ya finished?"

"I know you had a bad childhood and you hate me, but our little boy shouldn't have to suffer because of it. He loves you and never stops talking about you."

"I'm not…"

Candice waved a hand dismissively. "Kids don't come with a parenting manual, Raphael. When he was born, I also had to learn how to adjust being a parent and I also screw up. I'm the first to admit it. It's okay to. No one's perfect and I'm not asking you to be Dad of the year. I just want you to spend time with him and accept your responsibilities. Not just legally and I want Noah to have a great childhood. Don't you want that for him?"

"I have ta go."

"That's right. Don't listen to a flaming word I say. Only you and your life matter."

"Ya haven't been through what I have."

"You're right. I wasn't abused, I have a wonderful relationship with my mother and I don't understand why you can't be bothered with your kid."

"Maybe, because…."

"Because what?"

"Nothin'."

"Hamato Raphael Firenzi, you answer me. Now."

"I said nothin'."

"You're a crappy dad, Raphael, but you can stop it. The mould stops with you. Noah needs you just as much as he needs me and you owe it to him to do right by him. So I expect you here tomorrow afternoon. How about five thirty?"

"Fine. I need ta go." I wish to hell I'd never met this bitch and I won't take Noah tomorrow.

"Raphael, there's something I need to tell you before you leave."

"Has ta wait. I'm late."

Raphael climbed into his car and headed to the Waterfront for drinks with his pal, Victoria Jones. _I need a drink. What a shitty day._


End file.
